


You Think You Love Somebody

by Emono



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Choking, Competition, Drunk Sex, Fighting Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Mixed Martial Arts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sex Toys, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Gavin are amazing competitors in MMA tournaments, outstanding performers who just happen to be on the same level and weight class so they constantly clash. From the start they have a ritual after tournaments - to get drunk at the closest bar, find a hotel room, and fuck like bunnies until they're both too exhausted to keep their eyes open. They don't talk about it outside those nights, they just go on about their lives craving more than they want to ask for and trying to fill the voice with training. Will they ever get their shit together and admit they'd be the most perfect couple?</p><p>Meanwhile, former best friends/almost-lovers Ray and Jeremy fight for the love of their sensei, Ryan. They're bitter and hurt - thinking the other never loved them - and they take out their frustration on each other. They strive for Ryan's attention, but Ryan can only see how much their hurting and wants to help them fix things. </p><p>They all put their hearts on the mats and their fists in flesh and they hope it'll all work out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Think You Love Somebody

** This is for Julie, and for every sweet anon and message I got on my [tumblr ](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/)\- I didn't post almost any of them because they were so personal and heartfelt and just...so precious to me, I want to keep them close and not share them because they feel raw and I needed them so badly. I was so down on myself and ready to be done and you guys picked me up. My readers, my friends, you guys just are the fucking best and you're always so good to me...I hope you guys enjoy this, and things I write in the future. Feedback is appreciated, as always, but I juts want to make you guys smile **

**  
If you have any question on terminology I will gladly answer them <3 **

 

 

* * *

 

 

The dojo was thrumming with energy today. Michael got in his training shorts and underarmor, the compression comfortable on his heaving chest. He didn’t feel particularly sociable today so he kept to the equipment to give his body a full work out. His arms were burning so he took to the kickbag near the side, keeping out of the way. Jack had a full system here - half gym, half dojo, fully equipped to run strong for all types. Classes and training could go on at the same time and to the side like this he could do his own thing. Geoff was leading some of the others in his class in a sparring session, two pairs at a time going. Usually he’d be right there at his sensei’s side, being there to demonstrate moves and to help in any way he could, but today he felt off. Geoff understood, and once in a while he’d stop by to check up on him but otherwise let him work off the restless energy.

  
  


Then someone darkened the doorway and his day got infinitely better and worse.

  
  


Michael’s kick was off and he bounced his knee off the bag as his attention diverted to the person sauntering up like they owned the place. He scowled and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here, Free?”

  
  


Gavin casually leaned up against the weight machine, long fingers coming up to wrap around the stick of his sucker, red candy teasing along the seam of his lips. Silver rings shined in the bright gym lights, golden lashes low and hips cocked to make his too-tight shirt ride up to expose a dark happy trail and cut hips.  Gavin was fucking hot , he always had been. Skinny jeans and perfect thighs to fill them, muscles like steel and roped all along his capable body. A body Michael knew all too well. 

  
  


As sensual and harmless as Gavin appeared, the Brit was just as deadly as he was. first level brown belt in karate with just as many trophies and medals as Michael himself, plus two belts higher in jujutsu. Two years ago this twink had appeared out of nowhere with all these medals, muscled his way into Michael’s weight class, and started giving him a real run for his money. He’d had competition before but Gavin was completely on his level, his match in every way. They fought tooth and nail in the ring, on the mats, and even in individual evaluations they closely watched each other’s scores to see who had done their katas better. They’d left more bruises on each other than almost any other competitor, and when they got in the ring they both ended up bleeding. They’d butted heads since the beginning and they were ruthless when they were pitted up against each other. 

  
  


That natural friction turned into pure passion after tournaments. Michael had always liked to hit the bars after he competed to relax, take a night and the next day to enjoy himself and indulge before getting back to training. And those nights the past two years had ended up with a heavy bar tab and a warm bed. He’d been sure the first time it was just a fling, a one night stand. Two adrenaline junkie fighters using each other, fucking each other stupid until the sun came up and then parting ways with no more than a smug goodbye. But it kept happening - over and over, attracting each other like magnets. They clashed like comets on the mats, trying their hardest to take each other down, even getting KOs only to see each other a few hours later drunk off their asses and ready to fuck. 

  
  


Michael hated him. No, not hate...but it was fucking close. He wanted to grind Gavin’s face into the mat just as much as he wanted to grind into his tight ass. He wanted to throw him on the ground and deliver a nose-crushing elbow strike as much as he wanted to throw the Brit up against a hotel wall and tongue fuck him. It was a difficult relationship, one that if they were to acknowledge could become amazingly lethal. They’d be a power couple, the things they could learn from each other were endless with their mix-and-matched strengths.

  
  


But still they kept up this touch-and-go, this long tease like how they danced around each other on the mat. The cocky, sexy fuck got on his last nerve faster than anyone else, got under his skin, and it frustrated him beyond measure. 

  
  


Gavin sucked tight over the swell of the sucker, staining his lips cherry red. It popped out of his mouth and he grinned knowingly. “Hey Michael.”

  
  


Michael huffed and delivered a swift, precise kick to the bag. It had a nice snap and he took no small delight out of how the Brit’s eyes followed the movement. “What do you want?”

  
  


“Can’t I just come by and see my favorite boy?” Gavin’s pink tongue darted over the shining head of the lolly, making the other’s ears start to burn at the tips. “Just wanted to see if you were in top shape for the tournament in a couple weeks.”

  
  


“One month and three days,” Michael grunted out. 

  
  


Gavin hummed and tilted his head, v-neck cut low enough to show off the soft line of his throat. “I hope you’re working on something new.”

  
  


“My training regime is none of your business.”

  
  


Another kitten lick over the sucker and Michael’s cock twitched in his jock. “I hope you’re not going to bring that dusty old face-stomach-head-kick combo. Everyone knows how to defend it by now.”

  
  


Michael grit his teeth. “You sure fell for it last time.”

  
  


“I was humoring you, love.”

  
  


“You ate my fucking shin for fun then?”

  
  


Gavin pursed his lips on the candy in a filthy kiss and he hated that he was falling for the juvenile trick. “Maybe. It did get you on the ground after me, didn’t it?”

  
  


“You were dazed,” he countered hotly.

  
“ I think you just loved being on top of me too much.”   
  


“ I think you love being on your back.” Michael kicked the bag so hard it wobbled on its stand. “You rely too much on that ground game, Free. Those jujutsu medals are going to tie your hands one day.”

 

“As long as they don’t tie my feet, I’ll manage just fine.” Gavin’s voice sizzled with a struck nerve. “At least I don’t claim to be ‘well rounded’. Fighters like you who claim that are set up for failure. If you don’t claim a specialty then you’re doomed to mediocrity.”

  
  


“ Call my fucking trophy shelf  _ mediocre _ , I  _ dare  _ you,” Michael spat.

  
  


“You look good ruffled, Michael,” Gavin cooed with a wink. “Then again, I already knew that. Happy training, love. You’ll need it.”

  
  


MIchael snarled in frustration as his wit left him, all blood rushing south. Despite the rage, he watched that plump ass walk away. He felt like a dog drooling over the Brit, wanting to crawl after him and get his teeth into those tan cheeks. But he wouldn’t let himself get distracted. The tournament was getting closer every day and he had fine-tuning to do before the day came.

  
  


“Did he invite you out for tea?” Geoff snarked, stepping up behind him and watching the Brit sweep out the door.

  
  


Michael scoffed. “He’s just trying to get into my head.” 

  
  


“More like in your pants, as the kids would say,” Geoff joked lamely with a lazy smirk.

  
  


Michael tasted something sour on the back of his tongue and he scowled. “Get me Miles and tell him to bring the tape. Suddenly I feel like sparring.”

  
  


“You little spitfire. Alright, buddy, be ready in five.”

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Jeremy could admit to himself that he got a tad...obsessed with learning things and being the best at them. High school sports had bled into college and into gymnastics, dreams of the Olympics filling his head to the point where he couldn’t breathe. He’d run himself into the ground and his trainer had suggested taking up a hobby sport to ease the pressure and to get his cardio up. A handful of boxing classes had led him to this gym, into the loving embrace of Michael Burns who had turned him to the dojo. Boxing became karate and kickboxing and finally the stamp of MMA. He found himself to be a great striker with quick feet and good instincts. Burnie had given him the first two months of classes for free in hopes he’d stay on and learn, and learn he did. He soaked up everything like a sponge and tried to perfect it, to apply it in sparring matches. The Olympics hadn’t been erased from his goal list but it was a little farther now in his new field. He blazed a trail toward it, paving the way in blood and medals and trophies. 

  
  


He wasn’t the only champion winner of their dojo but he was one of them. 

  
  


This kata was getting the best of him. It was a [simple move](https://youtu.be/iiiznDpoapQ?t=2m17s) on paper - jump up, twist around, land solidly on both palms, knee, and foot in a low crouch. There were far more difficult things to learn but he was having trouble throwing himself around to face the right direction. He kept landing wrong on both knees or facing the wrong way or catching himself on his elbows instead of his hands. It looked inelegant, borish, and he was struggling.

  
  


What was worse, he was struggling in front of the visiting teacher, a sensei he would follow into hell if he asked. Ryan Haywood, a drifter of a sensei, a friend of Burnie’s though they were ten years apart. The man was poetry in motion - that sweep of golden hair and that strong, bearded jaw with such a fierce gaze that could soften into something achingly sweet or mirthful with humor. He was an easy going guy with too many awards under his belt to properly display. Though Jeremy had his doubts about the term “well rounded fighter”, Haywood was pretty close. He could keep up with the twenty-something year olds on the ground and on his feet, could help train in MMA and in straight jujutsu. He’d been in the game since he was a teenager and his style didn’t quite fit into any one slot and it made him an excellent teacher. Burnie only hired on the best trainers, the best teachers, and having Ryan was a treat. 

  
  


Burnie’s logic was, “When we have him here, it means no one else has him. That’s how you win. Sop up all the resources.”

  
  


Ryan was watching him. The sensei was doing the rounds in the dojo, watching the sparring matches and correcting stances, giving advice. Some of the students were practicing bo katas and Haywood seemed particularly interested in studying them but those sharp blue eyes kept darting ot Jeremy. They felt hot on his body and he wished desperately they were staring for other reasons besides the fact that he was failing in his attempts. Jeremy was acutely aware he was grossly sweating through his gym clothes and he’d been at this kata way too long. 

  
  


_ Okay, okay, come on, we can do this. We are awesome. It’s just a strong standing pose, turn, punch, jump, land, crouch, turn, up, punch, quick chop. Just have to… _

  
  


Jeremy made the stance strong and his turn was sharp, as sure as his punch. He went to throw himself up, jumping up like a kick and twisting his waist but he went too far and ended up flopping painfully on the mat. His shoulder throbbed and he barely swallowed his groan of disappointment and pain. He was just too broad, too heavy - it was throwing him off. Though he wasn’t a stranger to hard work, katas usually came easy to him. 

  
  


There were bare feet on the mat in front of him and he winced, raising his head to see Ryan standing there. “This kata really is giving you some trouble, Jeremy. Are you absolutely sure this is the one you want to take to the tournament?”

  
  


“You’ve seen the rest of it, I’ve pretty much got it down,” Jeremy defended as he scrambled to his feet. The height difference made his stomach warm and he tried to catch his breath to look at least somewhat composed in front of his idol. “It’s just the jump, it’s giving me a hard time. I have a month. I’ll definitely have it by then.”

  
  


“But you’ll be doing this high level kata along with an advanced bo kata...five or six matches stacked on top of those, maybe more,” Ryan hummed, chin resting briefly on his fist. “That’s quite a load for one man to carry.”

  
  


“This isn’t my first tournament,” Jeremy shot back with a bitter edge. “You don’t believe in me…?”

  
  


“Quite the opposite, I have the uttermost faith in you. I’ve seen you compete, you’re very good. Excellent, even.” Ryan’s smile was disarming and his heart skipped a beat. “This tournie will be well documented, it’s the largest I’ve seen in Texas for two years. You’ll have Youtube videos and fangirls but most of all recruiters will see you, sponsors, everything you need. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

  
  


He laid a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and the look on the older man’s face was so tender that all the tension in his body melted. “Thank you.”

  
  


“I’d like to offer some help.”

  
  


He thought of Ryan’s hands on his waist or pressed up behind him to correct his stance made him twitch in his jock and he nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

  
  


“Good, good.” He patted his shoulder before turning around. “Narvaez! I need you for a demonstration.”

  
  


_ Are you fucking kidding me? _

  
  


Of course it would be Ray to assist, and  _ of course  _ the other bounded up like an eager puppy looking impeccable. While Jeremy felt like an exhausted gorilla, Ray looked unruffled \- tight shorts, cut off tee, dewy and smiling like he had nothing in the world to worry about. Ray had always appeared that way - so relaxed, languid, easy going in all aspects until he entered the ring or started a kata. MMA was where he grew serious and stalwart, like worked steel hitting water. His fighting style was much more different than Jeremy’s - the unique blend of Muay Thai and Judo making him an opponent with amazing stamina who would make you wear yourself out before delivering finishing blows. 

  
  


When Jeremy had started classes at the dojo, Ray had already been there for three years. A blue belt in Judo, earned from fighting since he was young. Marks and trophies in Muay Thai, karate, and on his way to earning his purple belt in jujutsu. Jeremy could match him trophy for trophy just in different fields. 

  
  


They were two opposite kinds of fighters, but they used to be the best of friends verging on more.

  
  


They’d hit it off from the start. Ray had been his best best friend in the dojo, the one he followed after and listened to. They’d been connected at the hip, done synchronized katas and won medals for them in tournaments. Jeremy bought Ray his current pair of striking gloves, and Jeremy had a number of silly patterned jocks that were from the other fighter. They’d stayed at each other’s houses for days at a time, shared, food, traveled together - inseparable. Jeremy had been in love with him, though he wasn’t so sure the other felt the same way. They’d had their drunken kisses, their ass grabs, staying in the same bed and getting too close. They’d lay there in the dark breathing in one another and nothing would happen but those had been the nights he’d slept the best.

  
  


But one of those nights had changed everything. They’d drunk too much and Jeremy hadn’t thought much about saying something about his new crush on their sensei, admitting to his best friend in the whole world that he admired the man more than he should. 

  
  


” _I think I’m kinda’ in love with him, man.”_

  
  


“ _Get the fuck out of my house.”_

 

“ _Dude, what?”_

  
  


“ _You heard me. Get the fuck out.”_

  
  


He managed to get home that night and the next day the fight had continued, sober and heated. It was just sharp barbs at first but then Ray had admitted he liked Haywood too. Jeremy couldn’t recall ever feeling so betrayed, so furious. Maybe his affection for Haywood had been only a crush at first but he’d been utterly head over heels for Ray - they had been through so much, had woven such a strong bond. 

  
  


Something went wrong between them. The tender thing they’d had shattered into dangerous sparks that kicked up a flame between them that held nothing romantic in its embers. By the time Jeremy thought to tell Ray that he loved him, that whatever he felt for Ryan it didn’t diminish what they had and how much it meant to him, they were both too angry and bitter to do much more than tolerate each other in the dojo. 

  
  


That flame had eaten away whatever sweet bond they had and now he still wasn’t sure what was left for them but a continuing cycle of one-upping each other. 

  
  


“Ray, you’ve seen the kata before. Could you demonstrate the jump for us real quick?”

  
  


_ Real quick. _ If Jeremy didn’t know any better, he’d call it insulting. But Ryan’s tone was soft, imploring, and he knew seeing the move in action and up close would help. Ray nodded but there was a smugness creeping across his face, glinting in his dark eyes. Ray must have been watching Jeremy for some time because he fell right into the section of the kata he’d been reviewing, hands out and knees bent in a strong stance.

  
  


Jeremy watched with pursed lips as Ray turned, struck out, then (with unearthly ease) kicked up and twisted around mid-air to land in a perfect drop facing them. both hands on the floor, one knee with the other leg extended. It was textbook. He looked weightless, perfect, unshakeable. Jeremy felt his cock throb even as his stomach soured.  _ Fucking beautiful asshole. _

  
  


Ryan nodded and Ray rose up in a fluid motion, his lax grace returning. “Good.”

  
  


“Thank you, sensei.”

  
  


Jeremy wanted to punch him in his stupidly handsome face, knuckles burning for it.  

  
  


“I want you to work with Jeremy, to work together,” Ryan encouraged, tone lowering. “I sense some hostile energy between you two and working on a kata, sparring it out, can do a world of good. You’d be surprised what happens to a fight once it’s brought to the mat.”

  
  


They both scowled and the older man frowned. “Boys. You used to be so close. Seeing you both like this...this has to be fixable?”

  
  


The word  _ pick  _ was on the end of Jeremy’s tongue. He loved and respected Ryan, would do anything he said and was working up the courage to properly ask him out. If Ryan hadn’t showed up they’d be fine, maybe more than friends, but Jeremy’s heart was gone and he was torn between fearing rejection and wanting everything to blow over already. 

  
  


“There’s nothing wrong,” Ray grit out, flinching when he realized how fake he sounded.

  
  


A blonde brow rose. “Lying to me now?”

  
  


Ray looked away. “Sorry.”

  
  


“You two are some of the best students Burnie’s had in a long time,” Ryan said like a secret, gesturing the other closer. He put a hand on each of their shoulders and squeezed, getting them both to relax a little under the firm grip. “Animosity just doesn’t feel natural, this is a family. We’re here to support each other, and when we compete we should do it with full hearts and clear heads. Do you understand?”

  
  


Jeremy heaved an audible sigh and Ray sucked his teeth but after receiving a hard stare they nodded, murmuring agreements. 

  
  


“And you’ll help each other?”

  
  


“Yes, sensei.”

  
  


“ Good.” He patted them both with a mischievous glint. “Because if this goes on much longer, I’ll assign you a complex synchronized kata  that will force you to spend weeks together. You’ll perform it at the biggest tournament I can find and then you’ll be on Youtube failing  _ together _ .”

  
  


Ray made an audible noise of surprise and Jeremy’s stomach bottomed out. 

  
  


Ryan shot them one last smile before walking away, going to two students who were struggling with their bo katas and were trying to help one another. Ray turned on his heel, watching him go, eyes shamelessly roaming over the tight fit of his shirt and the cling of his sweats. Jeremy would have made a biting comment about the action but he was doing the exact same thing.

  
  


“Your ground game is shit, Dooley.”

  
  


Jeremy jolted out of his little daydream of grabbing a handful of that tight ass and his eyes picked up to see that Ray wasn’t even looking at him yet, despite the venom in his tone.

  
  


“You can’t even do a jump.”

  
  


“You still can’t execute a fucking hip throw despite all your cute little Judo ribbons,” Jeremy shot back just as quick, loving and hating the way it made the younger flinch. 

  
  


Ray snapped his head toward him with a heavy scowl. “‘Roid monkey.”

  
  


He grit his teeth. “You know that shit isn’t true and it’s not fucking funny to make cracks like that. People take that shit serious and then what?”

  
  


“Tell it to those bitch tits of yours.”

  
  


Jeremy’s ears burned as the other blatantly stared at his chest. He was sure he was just imagining it but Ray’s stare held more than a joke. The weight of it was heavier and he kind of felt like covering up his pecs but he wasn’t a fucking girl, no matter how his nips were stiffening up from the thought of Ray staring in something other than anger. 

  
  


“He’s watching, you know?” Jeremy pointedly flicked his eyes to Ryan. 

  
  


“ Oh you love it,” Ray scoffed. “You think he’s looking at you? Really?”   
  


 

“ Well he’s not looking at your scrawny ass,” Jeremy bit back. 

  
  


Ray’s smirk was cold but the malice didn’t reach his eyes. “You wanna’ bet?”

  
  


Jeremy’s licked his teeth and managed to swallow the barbs that tickled the back of his throat. “Let’s just do this, okay? The faster I learn this kata and we get civil, the sooner he stops worrying.”   
  


 

Ray rolled his shoulders and a neutral expression fell back over his face, the same kind of mask he’d spent years perfecting that Jeremy wasn’t used to seeing directed at him. “Yeah. Sooner I can get back to my own shit.”

  
  


Jeremy shifted his weight to his other foot, testing it for any pain from his last attempt. “You doing a weapon kata this time around? I’ve seen you practicing a bit but I know you don’t like to to show all your stuff here.”

  
  


Ray’s eyes widened just for a moment before the mask came back down. “Kunai. Are you doing bo again?”   
  


 

“ Advanced.”

  
  


“Yeah, I’ve seen it a little too. You look okay but you need to up your energy or they’ll knock points off.”

  
  


Jeremy scoffed and a smile teased his lips before he realized it. “Coming from the guy who told me to stop scaring little kids at our last small tournament?”

  
  


Ray stifled a laugh. “That kid pissed himself when you yelled.”

  
  


“Well, he shouldn’t have been standing so close to the sidelines.”

  
  


Ray wet his lips and looked at the mat. “So, the jump…”

  
  


Jeremy’s throat got tight and he remembered that the conversation was just a flash of their old relationship, that nothing was fixed. He got into training mode and nodded. “Yeah. Show me again.”

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Michael didn’t want to jerk off to the thought of Gavin but it always ended up happening. No matter how many people he hooked up with, it always came back to him in his bed alone with his hand around his dick and his eyes clenched shut. He had dozens of hotel fucks to flip through. Gavin’s soft hair in his fist, gel giving way to his grip as he threw the other man around. Slamming Gavin against the wall, over the dresser, the side of the bed, into the too-small shower to clean the sweat off them both before they got dirty again. 

  
  


Gavin was just miles of toned legs and those damn  _ hips _ \- deep dips to trace with his mouth and catch his cum. The fur on his chest and stomach that felt so good against his palm as he combed his fingers through it, following the treasure trail to a long, heavy cock. Neither of them were exactly porn stars but Gavin was uncut and had a subtle curve that made it feel like he was taking much more when he got fucked. Those legs were so fucking strong and that body was carved of stone, flexible yet unyielding. 

  
  


Gavin had picked him up and fucked against the wall with ease before, but Michael had always bent the Brit in half and fucked him with his knees almost touching his ears. Training made it easy  to fuck, to throw each other around and rut  like hungry beasts even when they were drunk off their asses. 

  
  


Michael dropped forward, hunched over his cock as he striped it with his too-tight fist. He panted roughly and kept his eyes squeezed shut, immersing himself in the phantom taste and smell of Gavin. Expensive cologne and fresh sweat and whiskey, tangy and hot and musky across his tongue. Gavin’s fat cheeks in his hand, that tiny hole that gave so well around his cock. How well they slid together when they were rolling around on the bed, electricity dancing across their skin as they ground their hips together and rutted hard cocks against firm thighs. How nice his lips felt against his and how good it felt to get hungry bites that sometimes split tender skin.

  
  


But what got him every time was kissing all the bruises and cuts that a tournament had left on Gavin’s body, biting at the marks he himself had left. They’d hurt each other more in those drunken tumbles but the difference was they  _ craved  _ this pain. There was no audience here in the hotel rooms - only their eager fingers and thirsty mouths, driven by their lust for flesh instead of their hunger to win. 

  
  


In the bed they both won, emerging with new violent badges of victory at their throats and on their inner thighs. Though they were a little ashamed of fucking their “enemy”, they still had the smug expression of a man who’d gotten the best fuck of their lives. 

  
  


Michael edged the line of too-much, remembering how good Gavin sounded grunting and huffing beneath him as he fucked into him with all the strength he had left after the long day of matches. Gavin had felt blood-hot and so  _ alive _ , writhing and trying to meet him. He’d looked damn good that last time - a black eye, a busted lip in two places, chest covered with purpling splotches. They’d both had bruised ribs and wheezed as they rutted, bodies close to giving out but still ready to fuck themselves to sleep.

  
  


Gavin’s nails digging into his shoulder, fresh blood smearing his mouth as his tiny wound reopened. ‘ _ Michael, Michael...wreck me, boy, want to feel you on the plane home.’ _

  
  


Michael shamelessly groaned into his pillow as he doubled over completely, jizz splashing onto his sheets. He milked his cock and rasped Gavin’s name, teeth gnashing briefly before he went lax. He pushed his head into the pillow and stared upside-down at the mess he’d made. He rolled his eyes and lazily tugged off the sheet, wiping himself down before balling it up and tossing it over the side of the bed. He flopped belly down on the bare mattress and curled into his pillows, humming and flushed in the afterglow.

  
  


He tucked a pillow under his cheek and between his knees and pretended just for this quiet moment that he had someone there with him.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The room was full of obscene squelching and the sound of his own desperate moans. Jeremy had  spread out on his back, one leg tossed carelessly and the other propped up on the wall that his bed was pressed up against. His toes curled against the plaster and he gasped sharply, hand deep between his thighs to shove the toy in deeper. It was a small dildo, curved to easily find a prostate, and his hole gave easily around it. He was sloppy with lube, too eager to take time stretching himself out - going for quick and rough. The sensitive gland inside him felt hot and swollen from abuse but he kept grinding the toy against it, panting noisily as he gave in to his base urges.  

  
  


He was too desperate tonight to do much more than fuck himself raw. 

  
  


Being so close to Ray and Ryan during the day’s training had driven him crazy, pricked his flesh and left his cock throbbing by the end of it. It took all his patience to strip down and grab the supplies before rolling into bed and shoving two soaked fingers inside his sensitive rim, throwing a foot up against the wall to get some leverage. The toy was his favorite - thick and curved, only long enough to grind over his prostate. One he could use regularly without making himself too sore. 

  
  


He closed his eyes and fucked the toy in deep and all he could see another, two others. His blood pumped hot and his mind raced, cranking out so many fantasies he could do little more than feel the heat of them before they changed. They were shameful but they were for him, and when he touched his cock he thought he was going to burn up. 

  
  


Jeremy thought of Ray in bed with him. The two of them grinding together, licking into each other’s mouths and groping whatever they could reach...he wanted Ray here to roll around with. He wanted the other to throat fuck him, to have quickies in the gym and just get lost in each other. 

  
  


He threw his head back and moaned, balls drawing up tight and cock leaking. 

  
  


His fantasy got taller, blonde, and he wanted to roll on his belly and take the thick cock that waited for him. To make love with Ryan, husking out endearments and praises while they slowly rocked together. Firm bite marks that would leave purple marks later, getting more rough as they chased their ends.

  
  


Or getting to fuck Ryan,  _ shit _ . Rubbing his cock between firm, pale cheeks and nudging the head against a tight little hole while Ryan begged breathlessly for more. Maybe Ray shoving his cock between those desperate lips to get him to shut up.

  
  


Jeremy cursed loudly as he spilled over his knuckles, keeping the toy shoved to the hilt so he could bare down on it. His eyes rolled back into his head as he milked his cock, ass clenching tight around the toy like it could get it to spill too. He rocked uselessly on the mattress and made it squeak in protest. His hand slowed down as his dick got too sensitive and he eased the toy out with only the slightest wince.

  
  


He rolled over and grabbed his shirt off the floor, cleaning up tacky lube and jizz before letting it drop back to the carpet. He knocked the lube and toy onto it, vowing to clean it all up first thing in the morning. He grabbed a pillow and pressed his face into it, groaning in defeat. 

  
  


As he started to drift off to sleep he couldn’t help but scold himself for being greedy, for wanting too much. If he’d just crushed his feelings for Ryan maybe Ray would be here.  _ Hell, maybe they both would be. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


 


End file.
